Love
by fujin of shadows
Summary: A loyal Guardian's musing concerning the relationship between mother and son.


Love.

I have always wondered why such an emotion exists.

Love after all is the most superficial of all emotions.

It is fragile and it makes fools among all of us, even among the best of us.

Yet, everyone experience love one way or another.

It may give us joy or pain, it does not matter, everyone will be touch by the emotion that we call love.

Being considering who I am, what I am, I didn't have much of a chance to experience love. I don't have the luxury.

Love is a weakness in my line of work.

I was primarily made for another task.

For what my life would lead me to, love has no place in my life.

But against all odds, I did find love.

I have fallen in love.

I have fallen undeniably and irrevocably in love.

I just can't have her.

She's married after all. The marriage that she is in is broken and distorted, but that did not change the fact that she already has a husband. She also has children of her own in that marriage.

Not to mention, we are both females.

More importantly, and this is the real reason why I can't pursue her, I am nothing more than her bodyguard, a glorified shield to take a bullet for her if needed.

It is not the best way to live, but it's the life that I was made for.

Moreover, protecting the one you love is a good way to die.

Still, love is a confusing and bewildering emotion.

After all, my beloved Madam, my one and only Oku-sama, loved her children, both of them, with all her heart.

Yet, she could not display that love towards her son.

Why deny it, Madam? I can see it as clear as day. Everyone that knows you could see it, although they would deny what is obvious in their eyes for courtesy sake. The way you look at him, the way you look when you see him, the way you say his name when you think no one can hear, the pride in your eyes every time his brilliance is in display, the love that you have for your son is so transparent, yet hidden in a shroud of mist and darkness of your own design.

I see that love that you want to give your son, Madam.

It's not easy to see, though. You don't show it in your facial expression, but if I look in your eyes during those split seconds, I can see it.

A flash of affection.

A flash of longing.

A flash of sadness.

A flash of despair.

If I didn't know my Oku-sama as well as I do, I would think that you felt nothing for him, and that you didn't care at all.

But I know you, my Madam.

I know you to an extent that it hurts.

I guess that's what makes you a Yotsuba.

Your ability not to care.

Or at, least pretend that you don't.

If that's what it takes to be a Yotsuba, I'm glad that I am merely a Guardian, a servant of your family.

Just like your son.

It is the greatest tragedy of this great family that such a promising child was demoted to a mere guardian.

Shiba Tatsuya is the most perfect warrior that ever existed, and that is just his current incarnation.

A child of seven years can be consider as the perfect warrior, the perfect soldier.

That is a chilling realization, yet that merely speaks volumes to his potential to grow into something more.

It hurts to see him be treated like garbage by his own blood.

And it is torture to see you, Madam, his own mother, not lifting a finger to protect him.

It is torture because I know that it kills you watching your son being treated like dirt.

You care for him. You love him.

Any mother would love his son.

And you love him to a degree than even most mother would struggle to reach. But you learned to hide that love that you have for him. You hid everything you feel concerning him.

The joy, the pride, the pain, the despair…the love.

Everything is hidden beneath a cold indifference that is often time unpalatable.

Why do you do this to him?

Why do you do this to yourself?

It's killing you. You are dying, in more pain than any bullet could generate, in more pain than any magic could ever inflict upon you.

You tell yourself that he is not your son. That he is merely a tool for your daughter's safety and security

My love, that's a lie.

That is you trying to be naïve, trying oh so desperately to be naïve.

That is not you.

Being a magician of this clan has strip you of your innocence. I know that better than anyone alive.

Being born as a Yotsuba, you can never afford to be innocent, to be naïve.

Yet, you force those two emotions at the forefront whenever you interact with your son, your first born.

I know the regime.

I know how you were condition, Madam.

You were trained to deal with the bloodshed, the pain, and death.

But you were never trained to disregard your own flesh and blood.

No mother can be trained or conditioned for that.

But you have learned to deal with such tragedy.

In a bizarre way, that made me love you more.

You can look down the barrel of any gun, face any magic without flinching, without fear.

After all, a mother willing herself to deny her urge to love her son, willing herself to let him be treated like an insignificant by your own family.

Nothing could surmount to that kind of pain.

Does pretending to feel nothing make you strong, Madam?

Does pretending to feel nothing help you to look at your son, a son that has been denied of his mother's embrace?

Does pretending to feel nothing help you sleep well at night?

Or is feeling emotion that is outside the norm of what your clan dictates a weakness that a Yotsuba cannot afford to have?

I don't know. I don't want to know.

But, Oku-sama…

Madam, do you remember the words you told me the moment I pledge myself to you.

You told me that I should act on my emotions. That emotions can take strength to the next level.

Madam, my dear Oku-sama, I pray that you would do as you preach.

If not for your son, then for your own wellbeing.

A mother should never force herself to hate her own son.

That would drive any woman insane.

Love is an illusion.

Love is superficial and fragile that it is often time more wise to ignore it than embrace it.

But, maybe love makes us strong.

Maybe love makes us weak.

But, my beloved, one thing I do know is that it makes us.

It shapes our lives, and it shapes who we are.

It makes us humans.

It defines us as individuals.

Love makes us unique.

So embraced it, my beloved, before you leave this world with that kind of regret on your shoulders.


End file.
